


Years and Years

by labeledbones



Category: Glee
Genre: sort of Blaine/Sam briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 15:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2114958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/labeledbones/pseuds/labeledbones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of unseen New Year's Eves for Kurt and Blaine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2010

Before Kurt's mom died, New Year's Eve meant the three of them and Dick Clark and Kurt falling asleep well before midnight, his mom waking him up with a soft kiss on the forehead, a 'happy new year, sweetie', and her arms lifting him up and carrying him to bed. 

Honestly not much has changed, she just wasn't there now. New Year's Eve means Kurt and his dad watching movies (they each pick one and his dad inevitably picks that year's biggest loudest action movie and Kurt inevitably picks that year's biggest most formulaic rom-com) and eating more pizza than Kurt will admit to. His dad lets him have a little bit of champagne at midnight but not before he hugs Kurt and tells him that he loves him, is proud of him, wants this year to be Kurt Hummel's year. 

Kurt is fifteen this year. Kurt is officially and publicly gay this year. Kurt is proud but lonely, terrified to be honest, but mostly just lonely. He thinks he wouldn't mind the fight if he had someone fighting beside him. He knows that might be silly, but when you're surrounded every day by people you feel utterly apart from in a fundamental way- He's just lonely. He wants romance, sure, but he also just wants to be connected, to understand and be understood.

He says goodnight to his dad and takes his champagne down to his bedroom with him. He swallows what small amount his dad had allowed him and lies down on his bed. Maybe it's the bubbles or maybe he's just a fifteen year old who never drinks, but he feels his blood humming quietly. He thinks about the boys he's had misguided crushes on, all of them hopelessly straight. He wonders what it would be like to have someone, to count down to midnight with someone and know you're going to kiss them when you get there. He wonders what it would be like to kiss someone, period. 

Kurt is seven minutes into the new year. He wishes for someone this year, someone. 

**

Blaine stands in the corner of the living room, watching his big brother flirt with his mom's friends. They fawn all over him, the big star just in from Los Angeles for the holidays. Cooper has the charm turned all the way up tonight. He just booked a commercial. Something stupid, one of those credit report websites. But he's getting paid, he's acting, he even gets to sing in it. Blaine isn't jealous. Blaine just wishes- It doesn't matter. 

Every year, Blaine's parents throw a big New Year's Eve party. They invite all their friends, the neighbors, the presentable family members. They hire caterers and decorators. Blaine puts on a suit, his dad rolls his eyes at Blaine's choice of bow tie, and Blaine stands in the corner of the living room for most of the night. When he was younger, his parents let him hang out in the basement with Coop. But when he turned thirteen, they started making him come upstairs. 

Blaine watches everyone at the party and all he can think is: how many of them know? He's been out for two months and he knows his parents have told at least half of the people in this room all about their gay son. His dad telling people like it was just a phase. His mom telling people like it was some scandalous but not necessarily unwelcome secret. 

He'd only come out in the first place because the bullying at school kept getting worse and everyone kept looking at him for some sort of explanation. Nobody was looking at the kids tormenting him of course. So finally one day he'd come home with grass stains on his jeans and a busted lip from being pushed down outside of school, and his mom had said, “Oh, Blainey, why are they doing this to you?” And he'd told her why.

He was so angry, is still so angry. Angry that it matters to anyone that he's gay. Angry that he gets beat up for something about himself that he can't change, doesn't want to change. Angry that his dad talks to him differently now, talks about cars and sports like he's trying to convince him to switch over, change his mind. Angry that his mom sometimes just looks at him and then sighs and looks away. Angry that Cooper hasn't been around because he really needs a big brother right now. And he's angry that he's angry. He doesn't want to be angry. He just wants to be himself.

He's been stealing sips of champagne from discarded glasses. He's halfway to half drunk. He's thinking their neighbors know, the Williams' from church definitely know (they keep glancing at him and looking away), Mr. Taylor from his dad's office might know or might just know that Blaine's sneaking drinks. He doesn't care who knows honestly. He wants everyone to know. 

It's coming up on midnight and he wanders upstairs to his room. He feels light from champagne but heavy from too many people. He falls onto his bed, glancing at the clock: 11:59. He can hear everyone talking downstairs. He feels far away. He wants to be alone but he doesn't want to be lonely. They start counting down and he just watches the ceiling. _Five, four, three, two-_

Blaine is five seconds into the new year, promising himself that this year will be better.


	2. 2011

“Say you'll come,” Blaine says, pleads really. He throws Kurt the pouty, eyelash-filled look he has quickly learned will always make him surrender. 

“I usually spend New Year's Eve with my dad,” Kurt says, moving away from Blaine as if a little bit of distance will make him less susceptible to Blaine's eyes. It doesn't work, of course, he's weak in the knees already. All the flirting they do that doesn't lead to anything has him dizzy and confused and totally at Blaine's mercy. 

“Your dad's got Carole now,” Blaine points out. He's leaning back against Kurt's car, all bundled up, ears and nose red from the cold. “Please,” he says, clasping his hands in front of him. “This party is always miserable. You'll make it not miserable.” 

Kurt smiles, already relenting. Truth be told, he was going to say yes as soon as Blaine brought it up. He was going to say yes before he even knew Blaine was going to ask him a question. He likes watching Blaine beg though. “How will I make it any less miserable?” Kurt asks, thinking Blaine bringing a guy as his date to the party will surely just give people more to talk about in hushed voices all night. 

Blaine pushes off of the car and reaches over to straighten out Kurt's scarf. “You make everything less miserable,” he says simply. 

Kurt opens his mouth to respond, but Blaine's already walking backwards across the parking lot saying, “Friday, seven o'clock, wear something...subdued.” He grins and turns around, walking off, leaving Kurt just as confused as ever about whether he's a date or a friend.

The whole situation so far has been fraught with signals Kurt can't seem to read. He wants to just let what happens happen. But, god, he wants it to happen, wants everything to happen with Blaine. 

**

“I invited someone to the party,” Blaine tells his parents that night over dinner. 

His mom looks at him from across the table. “Oh?” There's apprehension in her voice, and his dad has stopped chewing the food in his mouth. Since coming out, he hasn't dated anyone or mentioned any potential romantic interests to his parents. He also hasn't told them much about Kurt aside from mentioning a new kid at school. “Do we know this person?”

“No,” Blaine shakes his head, “and don't worry, he's just a friend.”

“I wasn't worried,” his mom assures him despite the relief showing on both his parents' faces.

Anyway, Kurt _is_ just a friend. Or that's what Blaine keeps telling himself because he can't explain anything he's been feeling since he met Kurt. 

Kurt shows up early on Friday, wearing a simple black suit (although his pocket square is an electric fuchsia) and looking nervous. Blaine ushers him into the foyer, saying, “It'll be fine,” as he brushes non-existent dust from Kurt's shoulders. 

“Your house is very fancy,” Kurt says looking up at the chandelier hanging above them.

“It's not that fancy.” 

“You have a four car garage, Blaine.”

“Okay, yes, my parents are loaded,” Blaine grins at him. “Don't let that color your judgment of me.” 

Kurt gives him an appraising look. “You suddenly seem taller and more handsome.” 

Blaine laughs, blushes. “Okay, gold digger, come on. We can hang out in my room until the party actually starts,” he says, leading Kurt upstairs. 

“I'm really glad you came,” Blaine says suddenly. They've been sitting on the floor listening to music and flipping through old issues of Us Weekly. Kurt looks up at him and is, as always, startled by the intensity of Blaine's eyes. “Last year's party was- It was just bad and lonely and everyone was just kind of looking at me like 'oh poor Blaine poor gay Blaine.'” 

“I'm sure they weren't,” Kurt says gently.

“They were. But it doesn't matter. They don't matter. You - ” he stops himself. “I'm just glad I'll have someone to talk to at least.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Kurt says, turning back to the magazine, flipping idly from page to page. “I love New Year's with my dad, but it's nice to be spending it with someone-” He looks up at Blaine and then away. “- someone my own age,” he finishes. 

Blaine just nods and scoots a little close to Kurt to look at a photo spread of celebrities going grocery shopping. Kurt can feel the warmth of his body now. He doesn't say anything else, just sits quietly next to Blaine, wondering, thinking about last year and how lonely he'd been and how now there was Blaine. He moves a little closer, almost nudging Blaine's shoulder with his. 

They both feel dizzy from near contact, from the certain uncertainty, from the promises of midnight. 

Later, downstairs, they're standing together in the center of the living room. No one pays much attention to them as they sip from the champagne flutes Blaine's mother had given them with a small wink. She'd taken to Kurt almost immediately, much to Blaine's surprise. Then again, Kurt keeps complimenting her interior design choices which is a surefire way to win her over. Blaine turns his sips into gulps because he wants that weightless courageous feeling and there are only ten minutes until midnight. 

Kurt leans in close and whispers, “Think we can sneak some more champagne?” There's something shining in his eyes when Blaine looks over and he wonders if Kurt even needs more. But still he nods and takes Kurt's glass and goes to find an empty bottle. 

Kurt isn't sure what he'd expected from this party. Definitely something more intimidating than this from the way Blaine had talked about his parents' friends. Sure they were all obviously wealthy and probably conservatives but so far no one seems to have even noticed Kurt or that Kurt is here with Blaine. Well, he isn't here _with_ Blaine. At least, not officially. But they have been standing close to each other and talking low to each other and have basically only been interested in each other. 

He watches Blaine across the room, getting caught by an older woman who shakes his hand and smiles and keeps him in conversation for a few minutes. Blaine has obviously turned on his easy charm and he stands with his shoulders so wide and confident. Even from a distance, Kurt can see that one dimple, that one torturous dimple in the left corner of his mouth. He feels an ache, a pull, something like missing him even though he's right there. Something like wanting to walk across the room, take his hand, and just belong to him. It scares him, the suddenness of this feeling. The way it surges up inside of him and takes him over completely. 

He wills his feet to remain firmly planted. He watches as Blaine disengages himself from the older woman and makes his way back towards the kitchen. He's gone from Kurt's sight for what feels like years but is only a minute. Then he's back, striding across the room, two refilled champagne flutes in his hand, his eyes only on Kurt. “Five minutes until midnight,” he says in a low voice when he reaches Kurt and hands him his champagne. He clinks his glass against Kurt's and smiles. Kurt feels everything all the way through him. 

When there's only a minute left in the year, Blaine puts both their empty glasses on a nearby table and takes Kurt by the elbow. “Come on,” he says in Kurt's ear, guiding him away from everyone. 

And then they're back in Blaine's bedroom. Just them, alone. Kurt's skin buzzes and it's not from the alcohol, this is different, this is just _Blaine_. They stand there in the middle of his bedroom, looking at each other, listening to the people downstairs as they start the countdown. There is something between them, something enormous, something bigger than everything. They both know the other can feel it. 

For a second Kurt wants to cry, feels his throat tighten as he looks at this person he's only known for a few months, because he already knows he wants Blaine forever. He isn't sure how he knows, but he knows. And he is terrified.

“This is it,” he says quietly, surprised to hear it come out aloud. Luckily, the countdown has reached _5, 4, 3_ so Blaine assumes he means something less significant than the rest of their lives, and steps a little closer to Kurt, smiling. 

Blaine isn't touching Kurt but he's so close that Kurt feels every part of him anyway. Blaine looks up at him through his long eyelashes and counts along, “Two, one,” whisper quiet. Everything tonight has been so muted and close and humming. “Happy New Year, Kurt,” he says and then he inhales slowly and steps back. 

Kurt has never in his life wanted to kiss someone more than he wants to kiss Blaine right now. He can feel flames under his skin. He can feel a giant knot tying itself tighter and tighter deep in his gut. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks, _Not now. Soon, but not now._

He steps around Blaine to sit down on the foot of the bed. They are now 45 seconds into the new year and when Blaine sits down next to him, their shoulders touching, Kurt says, “It's going to be a good year. Our year.” 

Blaine nods, “Our year, yeah,” a little breathless.


	3. 2012

“Remember last year?” Kurt laughs, pulling Blaine's shirt over his head, pressing his mouth against his throat. 

“Can't remember anything right now,” Blaine mumbles as Kurt's mouth moves along his jaw before finally finding his mouth.

“Your parents' party? Us coming up to your room right before midnight?” Blaine always loves to listen to Kurt but right now he wants other things and he keeps chasing after Kurt's mouth with his own. “I wanted to kiss you so badly.” 

“I'm trying to do just that right now,” Blaine says, capturing Kurt's bottom lip between his own finally. 

Kurt gives in for a minute, just kissing and kissing and kissing. But then Kurt pulls away again, his hands on Blaine's chest, his breath heavy. “I just- We're here now. A year later. And I can kiss you all I want.” 

“I wish you would,” Blaine whines underneath him, moving his hips a little to try and make himself particularly clear. Kurt moans in response and finally reattaches his mouth to Blaine's. Blaine's hands gratefully slip beneath the waistband of Kurt's impossibly tight jeans. 

“It really was our year.” Blaine groans dramatically as Kurt pulls away again. He honestly would love to talk for hours with Kurt about how great this year's been, how happy he is, how much he loves Kurt and how much he wants to keep loving Kurt for years and years and all eternity. But honestly right now Blaine just wants Kurt, wants to feel him, wants to be as close to him as possible. That's how he wants to spend the last hour of the year. Not talking, just touching and tasting and existing. 

“I love you,” Blaine says, putting his hands on either side of Kurt's face. “I love you I love you I love you,” he says and pulls him down to him again. 

**

They are sweaty and naked and Kurt pulls a bottle of champagne out of nowhere and grins, placing it between them on the bed. “Fifteen minutes until midnight,” Kurt says. He sits up and starts peeling the foil from the bottle. “Thank god for everyone being out of the house tonight,” he says, looking down at Blaine who is positively soaking in bliss right now. His eyes are closed and he's smiling so wide.

“This is a perfect moment,” Blaine says. “Let's stay here forever. Just you and me and our bodies and nothing else.” 

“We used to be so innocent. What happened?” Kurt laughs. The cork pops and Blaine finally opens his eyes. He watches Kurt tip the bottle back and pull hard. He watches Kurt's mouth, his throat. He watches Kurt. 

Then Kurt's handing the bottle over to him and he sits up a little to drink. He swallows and puts the bottle down on the night stand. “Come here,” he says, his voice thick. Kurt curls up on his side next to Blaine, legs twisting together with his. He presses a kiss against Blaine's shoulder. Blaine turns over so he can face Kurt. He kisses him once, slowly, and says, “This has been the best year of my life. I've never-” 

“Me, too.” Kurt walks his fingertips up and down Blaine's chest, going slowly through the soft hair there, lingering on the warm skin. 

“I want a hundred more just like it,” Blaine says, and kisses Kurt again. 

“Are you planning on living until your 116? I have no objections to that, but it might be scientifically impossible,” Kurt grins at him. He has his fingers in Blaine's hair now, all mussed from sex, curls springing back to life. 

“I want eternity,” Blaine says, so low and so seriously, that Kurt stops breathing. “I want all of it, forever, just you, always.” 

Kurt tugs on one particularly wild curl and kisses Blaine hard. “I never want to stop feeling this way,” he says into Blaine's mouth, kissing him again and again.

There is no countdown this year, just the sound of their mouths and their skin. They are lost to each other when midnight comes. 

“It's 12:16,” Blaine says, pushing his face into Kurt's chest. “We missed it.” 

Kurt shifts his hips a little against Blaine's, eliciting a deep groan. “We didn't miss anything. An infinite amount of new years coming, remember?” 

“Infinity,” Blaine says dreamily against Kurt's skin. 

They are well into the new year, and they are together, and there are going to be so many more.


	4. 2013

Kurt isn't sure why he ever agreed to host a New Year's Eve party at the loft. But Rachel had convinced him that it would be good for him, good for both of them. But here he is, hiding on the fire escape because everyone in there is too loud and too happy. Because there's a cute enough guy in there who keeps trying to talk to him, and Kurt finds himself honestly baffled by even the idea of another person right now, someone not Blaine. He's been lonely though, just physically lonely. He thinks he wouldn't mind just someone warm and close, just a body next to his.

He watches the street below, relatively quiet with everyone at parties or out of town. He wraps his arms around himself against the cold air, because he hadn't thought to put a coat on before escaping. He hadn't been thinking about much of anything besides getting out of that crowded apartment. The cold settles deep in his bones but he barely feels it. He even welcomes the sharp feeling of cold wind against his face.

A week ago, Blaine was here. That's what he keeps thinking. A week ago Blaine had been here and it had almost been like the last few terrible months had never happened. But Kurt's still left thinking about how, no matter what, everything is different now. No matter how much they insist they are the same, and that they mean the same things to each other, it isn't true. They can never get back to who or what they were. If they're going to be anything, they have to start over, be something entirely new. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he ignores it. He knows it's Blaine. And he isn't ignoring him out of anger anymore. He's ignoring him in the name of self preservation. He's ignoring him because he doesn't know what he wants to say yet. 

The music and the people roar distantly back in the loft, and Kurt feels tired. He's spent the last few months of the year running from something he isn't sure he even wants to run from. But Blaine hurt him in a way he didn't ever think Blaine would hurt him, and so he had to run, didn't he? They had promised each other they wouldn't fall apart, but Kurt had been in New York for barely a month before- 

And it wasn't so much the cheating itself as it was that Blaine had shown himself to be someone Kurt didn't recognize, someone completely different from who Kurt had fallen in love with. So why was Kurt still in love? Why couldn't he leave Blaine behind? Why did the very idea of letting Blaine go feel something like cutting his own legs off?

His phone buzzes again, and then again, and then again. He still leaves it in his pocket. He'll check it at midnight, he tells himself. He just needs what's left of the year to gather his strength, to find the right words.

**

“You're going,” Tina tells him in the hallway after school. “You're going and it's going to be fun, and who knows, maybe you'll kiss someone at midnight.” She looks up at him, beaming and swinging her hips back and forth a little. 

Blaine groans, but thinks about his other options: his parents' party or spending the night alone in his bedroom. “Okay, I'll go,” he relents. “But I'm not kissing anyone.” 

Tina pouts, “Fine. Continue to be hung up on Kurt, but promise you'll try to have fun.”

“I promise,” Blaine says and he means it because he knows Tina just wants him to be happy, and he wants to be happy too.

So that's how he finds himself mostly drunk in Kitty's basement on New Year's Eve, watching Sam do a striptease for everyone to an Usher song. He's trying to ignore the way his skin warms up a little with the way Sam moves his body. He looks good up there though, down to his boxer briefs and moving to the rhythm of the song. Blaine swallows down more of his room temperature beer and pulls out his phone. 

The last thing he texted Kurt was, 'Just landed back in Ohio. Is it okay that I miss you?' Kurt hadn't answered it. 

Now he texts him 'Sam. Usher. Stripping. Lots of beer. I still miss you.' 

He puts his phone away, telling himself that's the only text he'll send Kurt. Unless Kurt answers in which case, he can text Kurt all he wants. But he will not continue to text Kurt if Kurt isn't going to answer him.

Sam is about ten seconds away from just pulling off his underwear completely, and Blaine has to take a deep breath as Sam's fingertips slip under the elastic. But of course Blaine is quickly up on his feet, making sure Sam doesn't completely embarrass himself tonight. “Hey, let's keep it PG-13,” he says pulling Sam down from the couch he was dancing on. 

“Just trying to give the people what they want,” Sam says, winking and pulling his jeans back on. 

Blaine feels his cheeks flush. “Yeah, well, I think the people are pretty satisfied.” 

Sam tugs his shirt on over his head and looks at Blaine for a long second before saying, “I need another beer.” 

He leaves Blaine standing there by the stereo, looking over his shoulder at him as he goes, a soft smile on his lips. Blaine shakes his head clear because he isn't even sure if he's actually interested in Sam or if it's just misplaced affection. Blaine pulls his phone back out of his pocket, swallows down some more beer, and texts Kurt: 'I hate that I have to start a year without you.' And then: 'I hate that it's all my fault.' And then: 'I hate that I wasn't strong enough to be alone.' 

Sam is making his way back across the room. “Dude, you're moping,” he says and then he spots the phone in Blaine's hand, “Are you drunk texting Kurt right now?” 

“I'm not that drunk,” Blaine says. 

“Well you're definitely too drunk to be texting your ex-boyfriend.”

Blaine shrugs. “I just miss him.” He suddenly feels deeply sad and pathetic, like he wants to lean into Sam and cry for a while. Like he wants to go home and just crawl into bed and hope he wakes up in a different universe where he didn't fuck everything up. 

Sam nudges his shoulder. “You're awesome. You know that, right?”

Blaine just looks at him. He is honestly very close to losing it right here in Kitty's basement. He's pretty sure Kitty would never let him forget it if he burst into tears in the middle of her New Year's party. 

“No, seriously. I know this whole break up thing sucks. But, I mean, you've got looks and you can sing good and your eyebrows are intense and you're a really good guy and- I don't know, man, just don't be so down on yourself. You're great.”

Blaine reaches out and just grabs onto Sam's forearm in a kind of desperate way because he needs something to anchor him right now. His bottom lip is trembling and he presses his fingers into Sam's skin. Sam reacts by looking down at Blaine and leaning into him slightly. 

**

“It's almost midnight,” Rachel sings into his ear once he finally rejoins the party. His skin tingles as it warms back up in the heat of the loft. 

“Thank god,” Kurt says, shoulders slumping. 

“You're not having fun?” Rachel gives him her biggest pout.

“Did you not notice I just spent the last half hour out on the fire escape being all morose and brooding?”

She looks genuinely sad now. “I thought maybe you were on the phone with Blaine.” 

Kurt laughs and shakes his head. “No, trust me. I'm not- He's been texting me and I'm just not even looking at my phone. I have no idea what's happening with us right now, but I feel like I need to just-”

“Take a step back and breathe?” Rachel supplies, placing her hands firmly on his shoulders. 

“Something like that.” 

“Well, Tom's been looking for you,” she says, raising her eyebrows.

“God, Rach, honestly I don't know if-” 

“Okay, okay,” she puts her hands up in defeat. “But I'm just saying he's cute and it's New Year's.” 

Kurt smiles, or tries to, and then says, “Where's the champagne?”

He drinks enough that by the time they're counting down to midnight, he feels almost good. Good enough that he lets Tom stand next to him as they count backwards from ten, good enough that he lets Tom kiss him on the cheek when they hit midnight. But then he's making a quick exit to his bedroom, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

**

Blaine and Sam are still standing together when the countdown starts. Blaine's hand isn't on Sam's arm anymore, but they're just looking at each other in this drunkenly serious way and Blaine has no idea what anything means right now. He just knows he doesn't feel like crying anymore. He just knows that Sam's hand moves to his cheek once they get to _five four three_. He just knows that it's midnight and Sam is kissing him and he is trying so hard to find something in that kiss, anything. 

But the kiss is empty and, frankly a little messy, so he pulls away, saying, “Sam-”

And Sam is just nodding. “Yeah, no, yeah. My bad. I just thought you might-”

“Sam,” Blaine says again, softer this time. “You're a great friend, but-”

“Right,” Sam says and then shrugs. “I just wanted you to be less sad, I guess.” 

Blaine smiles at him. “I appreciate that, but next time try cookies or letting me beat you at Mario Kart.” 

Sam nods and grins. “Got it, man.”

Blaine excuses himself and goes to find the bathroom upstairs. He sits down on the edge of the tub and pulls out his phone. There's a text from Kurt: 'What are we going to do?' 

Five minutes into the new year and he can taste Sam's cherry chap stick on his mouth, and he is only certain about one thing. 

**

Kurt sits on his bed and waits for a response. Six minutes into the new year his phone buzzes: 'We're going to love each other forever.'


	5. 2014

Blaine corners Kurt in the kitchen, presses him back against the refrigerator and kisses him, hands on his hips, fingers slipping under his sweater to find bare skin. Kurt gives a surprised 'oh!' against Blaine's mouth before opening up underneath him. Blaine tastes like red wine and chocolate cake and Kurt feels lightheaded. 

Their friends are laughing in the living room, music playing quietly on the stereo. But here, Blaine's hips are pressing into Kurt's and Kurt brings his hands up to Blaine's neck, thumbs resting on his jaw. They're kissing like it's the last time or like it's the first time in a long time. They're kissing like they will die if they stop. 

“I wish it was just you and me tonight,” Blaine says before recapturing Kurt's bottom lip. 

“Mmm,” Kurt groans. “It's been a good night though.” 

Blaine nods, his mouth moving to Kurt's neck. “It has. I love our friends. I just- God- I want-” 

Kurt brings Blaine's mouth back to his, breathing, “Yeah, yeah, I know,” against Blaine's tongue. 

And then Sam calls from the living room, “GUYS! STOP MAKING OUT! IT'S ALMOST MIDNIGHT!” 

Blaine settles back on his heels, eyes still trained on Kurt's mouth. “Let's just hold this thought,” he says, pressing his lips quickly to Kurt's once more. 

“You guys know the kitchen isn't actually a separate room and we could still see you, right?” Artie asks when they've rejoined the group.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Kurt says cheekily. 

“Almost as good as me and Blaine last year,” Sam says from where he's stretched out on the floor. 

“I'm sorry, what?” Kurt turns to Blaine, eyes wide. 

“It was nothing,” Blaine assures him, rubbing Kurt's back, and giving Sam a look of warning. 

“We totally kissed last year at midnight. Blaine was all sad 'cause you guys were broken up and you weren't answering his texts or whatever, so I just-”

Kurt puts a hand up and shakes his head. “Nope. Don't need to know anything else.” And then he turns to Blaine and says simply, “Really?”

Blaine shrugs. “It was nothing,” he says again.

“Blaine's like a really good kisser though,” Sam says. 

“Oh, I _know_ Blaine's a great kisser, but thank you, Sam.” Kurt is still giving Blaine an incredulous look. 

Meanwhile, Rachel is quietly giggling to herself from her corner of the couch. “Oh my gosh,” she says, a hand covering her mouth. “This is amazing.” 

“I'm still totally straight,” Sam says, sitting up. 

“I'm not so sure about that, Sam,” Kurt reaches over and pats Sam's shoulder gently. 

Then Rachel is clinking a spoon against an empty wine glass and looking at everyone very seriously. “Listen, you guys, I just wanted to say- I'm genuinely so grateful for every one of you. The people in this room are my family and I couldn't have gotten through everything that happened this year with you guys.” She smiles, a little teary eyed and everyone gives a quiet 'hear hear.' 

“We love you, too, Rachel,” Blaine says leaning over and wrapping his arms around her. Kurt joins in and then Artie and then Sam until everyone is draped over each other laughing and some of them maybe crying too. 

“Two minutes until midnight,” Artie announces once they've all detached themselves. 

Blaine gives Kurt a look that involves a lot of eyebrow and Kurt stands up, stretching and yawning dramatically, “Now that we've had our love pile, I think Blaine and I are gonna turn in early.” 

Everyone in the room groans. “Just say you wanna go do it, dudes,” Sam says.

“Fine,” Kurt says, pulling Blaine up by the hand. “Blaine and I are going to go make sweet love to each other because we're starting a new year and we're together again and we're getting married and his ass is unbelievable.” 

There is more collective groaning. Rachel even throws her spoon at them as they disappear behind the basically worthless privacy curtain. 

Still, they finally feel alone once they're in their ( _their_ , it's been months but the thrill of it, the freedom of it, is still so much) bedroom. Blaine flops down on the bed and watches as Kurt undresses until he's just in a t-shirt and boxer briefs. When he's done, he stands at the edge of the bed and looks down at Blaine expectantly. “Take my clothes off for me,” Blaine says, half a question, half a directive.

Kurt takes a breath and nods. He moves slowly, fingers roaming over all the stretches of freshly exposed skin. Blaine always feels brand new underneath Kurt's hands. Finally Blaine is down to just his briefs ('mmm those sexy little black ones' Kurt purrs) and they crawl under the covers together. 

Blaine immediately tangles their legs together and buries his face in Kurt's neck.

"This year was weird and hard," Kurt sighs against his chest. 

"Yeah," Blaine answers. He finds Kurt's hands and twists their fingers together. "But we have each other. We always have each other."

Kurt takes in a breath. "Everything that happened with Finn made me realize how quickly things can just disappear. And, Blaine, god, _you_ -"

“ _I_ am not going anywhere," he says and he presses his mouth to Kurt's.

"I can't lose you," Kurt says against Blaine's mouth. And then, “And I can't let you hurt me again, not like before.”

"You won't. And, god, _I_ won't. Not ever." Blaine kisses him over and over and over. "I _love_ you. I am _in love_ with you. I'm with you forever."

The TV's come on in the living room, all music and cheering and the gentle murmur of their friends talking to each other, Rachel giving a loud honking laugh in response to something Sam says. Blaine and Kurt are just looking each other in the dim light of the bedroom. 

Kurt presses his nose into Blaine's cheek and says, “Maybe this year was hard, but we have so many more.” 

Blaine nods, closes his eyes, shifts his body closer to Kurt. “Every year with you is a good year,” he says. 

And it's _three two one_ from the living room TV, and their friends clinking glasses together, and they are kissing and pressing into each other and holding on and saying 'I love you' over and over until the words sound like nothing but still hold everything. 

Thirty seconds into the new year and they are next to each other, breathing together, and they feel surrounded by love and the universe and the rest of their lives, all those years to come.


End file.
